


what i threw away is right back in my hand

by alucardshield



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Feelings Realization, Gen, Holding Hands, I guess., M/M, Nonbinary Character, Not Beta Read, Pre-Slash, nonbinary sakusa, well. kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:41:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29190207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alucardshield/pseuds/alucardshield
Summary: “Yeah, yeah. Just say ya love me and ya love holding my hand. Ya wanna kiss me so bad, it makes you look stupid.” // Atsumu cracks Sakusa's knuckles. Something something, crack treated seriously.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 1
Kudos: 62





	what i threw away is right back in my hand

**Author's Note:**

> tbh i just wanted to write a fic about cracking sakusa's knuckles, because i think it would be fun personally. but then i found that there's very little nonbinary sakusa content so i just had to make some. so this is kind of two-in one self indulgence. enjoy <3

“Hey Omi-Omi, can I crack yer knuckles?”

Sakusa realized over time that it was often better to just let Atsumu be Atsumu when his requests weren’t too bothersome, as making a big deal out of nothing tended to egg him on, when he really doesn’t need to be more razzed than normal. Akaashi gave them some quality Atsumu Strategies from his toolkit, and that was that.

This particular request might have been weird though. Usually it was something simple like getting 4 donuts for himself at a hotel breakfast, something that rarely impacted the team (Atsumu complaining about his stomach ache notwithstanding). Well, whatever.

“Wash your hands first.” They sighed.

“Wait, actually? Holy shit!”

After supervising Atsumu and making sure he did it for the full 30 seconds (Lord knows the statistics of (albeit questionably) straight men washing their hands), Atsumu sat down next to them on the locker room bench, holding his hand out and dutifully avoiding touching anything else. Sakusa complied, putting their hand in the others’.

Atsumu flipped Sakusa’s hand, their palm facing up. He bent Sakusa’s forefingers, and pressed down hard into their index finger.

“Miya, that fucking hur-” they began, before they were cut off by a resounding crack. Sakusa let out an involuntary groan, surprised by how it felt. It hurt, bad, but it was really satisfying. Sakusa shot Atsumu a death glare, knowing full well how funny Atsumu probably thought it was to elicit literally any reaction out of them. Brat.

“Not one word. To anyone.”

“Of course.” Atsumu grinned and cracked the next finger. The middle finger. Another completely involuntary noise left them, as it was impossible to tell when the pressure he was applying to the knuckle would finally give in. Atsumu failed to suppress a snicker, much to Sakusa’s discontent.

“You’re a real piece of work, Miya.”

“S’what ‘Samu always said would be inscribed on my tombstone,” Atsumu lowers his voice authoritatively, “A real piece of work.”

“Just get on with it.”

The ring finger took longer than the middle finger did, the pressure building into far more pain than that of the other fingers. Finally, it cracked, a heavy exhale leaving Sakusa’s lips.

Were Atsumu’s hands always this warm? Hell, was the locker room always this warm? The pleasure-pain combined with the proximity was… kind of affecting them, unfortunately. Sakusa decisively looked away from Atsumu, making a mental note to seek professional psychological help if their wires were crossed this bad.

“This one might be the most painful,” Atsumu warned them, referring to Sakusa’s pinky finger.

This one took longer and hurt way more than even the ring finger, and wasn’t even as satisfying. At least Sakusa could keep a little scrap of their dignity, as they were at least quiet for this one.

Sakusa wordlessly offered him the other hand, resigned to their fate.

“Knew ya’d like this, Omi-kun!”

“Please shut the fuck up.”

“S’not a no~” Atsumu sing-songed.

He cracked another couple knuckles, and Sakusa grew more and more distracted by how nice it was to kind of hold hands with someone, even though it was possibly the least romantic situation they could think of. Having a co-worker crack your knuckles isn’t exactly the stuff romance novels are built from.

Wait a minute… romance?

No. No, absolutely not. They do not harbor any kind of romantic attraction to Miya fucking Atsumu. Ew. However soft his hands are, however shockingly accommodating he is to their mysophobia, however long it had been since they’d held hands with someone… absolutely not! Kissing him? Miya? That would be…

Probably not that terrible, come to think of it. Frustratingly.

They flew through the 5 stages of grief within a minute, finally landing on a resigned acceptance that God definitely hates them. The burst of pain resulting from Atsumu cracking their pinky finally shocked them back out of their mind.

“You’re thinking real hard about somethin’. Stop.”

“Not all of us can just stop thinking, Miya.”

Atsumu hesitated to reply for just a moment, letting his gaze flick down to where Sakusa’s hand still lays on top of his. He grinned and laced their fingers together.

Wait a minute, what if Atsumu’s straight and they read this all wrong? What if he actually just does this with all his teammates and they’re making it weird? What if he’s about to tease them into oblivion and then tell the whole team? And then they get fired for being gay? What if--

“Didn’t I tell ya to stop thinking? Cmon Omi-Omi, thought ya take directions better’n that!”

They glared at Atsumu.

“What, ya think that’ll stop me? I’ve been yer teammate for how long now? ‘m used to yer cranky ass by now.” Atsumu angled their joined hands so his elbow rested on his knee, before swinging his forearm back and forth obnoxiously.

Sakusa forced their arms still, unintentionally turning it into an impromptu arm wresting match, where Atsumu fought to keep swaying them.

“Wait a second. How good are ya at arm wrestlin? Bokkun’s the reigning champion, but I have my doubts ya’d wanna hold his hand,” Atsumu asked.

“Miya. I want you to take one good look at me and tell me if I go around arm wrestling people with my bare hands.”

“Well--”

“I don’t think I’ve arm wrestled someone since elementary school. I have no idea whether I’m any good at it, and I’m not really interested in finding out. Besides, I doubt I could win against Bokuto anyways.”

“Ya make a good point there, Omi-kun. But you’re holding my hand now, aren't ya?

“I just watched you wash your hands, not even two minutes ago. Your hands haven’t touched anything else.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just say ya love me and ya love holding my hand. Ya wanna kiss me so bad, it makes you look stupid.”

Sakusa grimaced at the words, questioning their taste in men as well as the series of life decisions that brought them to this point. Atsumu wasn’t wrong, necessarily, but he sure was obnoxious about it.

“Well?” Atsumu prompted, as if they would actually admit to loving him and loving holding his hand, and wanting to kiss him so bad it ‘made them look stupid.’

“I… don’t hate you, and I don’t hate holding your hand.” Sakusa ground out.

“Wow, high praise from Mx. I Hate Everyone themself. And? Ya wanna kiss me?”

Sakusa squeezed Atsumu’s hand hard in warning.

“Hm? What was that?”

“I don’t want to kiss you.” They couldn’t meet Atsumu’s eyes. Especially with their mask off, Sakusa has never been a particularly good liar, always preferring to tell the truth. They earned the nickname “too blunt jerk” for a reason, dammit.

“Honestly didn’t expect ya to respond, Omi-Omi. Was just teasin’ ya. Unless?”

“What do you mean, unless? Is it a joke or is it not?”

“Yeah? No? Whatever ya want. I mean, I don’t even know if ya swing my way in the first place.” Sakusa saw Atsumu start to panic a little bit, his jokingly flirtatious facade starting to fall around him.

“I do. Unfortunately. Swing that way, I mean.” The combination of frustration at Atsumu and the stress of the situation was fragmenting their sentences. They took a deep breath.

“You’re out of your mind if you think I’ll kiss you without you brushing your teeth, though.”

“Wait. Do ya mean that if I brush my teeth…?”

They feigned a sigh of resignation, as if the idea of kissing him didn’t make them embarrassingly happy. “Sure.”

**Author's Note:**

> title is from reno by red vox <3 sorry if this sucks it's been forever since i wrote for real T_T


End file.
